. "I won't have no blood spilt aboard my
ship."

"Who's going to spill blood?" asked the Jesuitical Bill; "but if he
likes to run hisself on to the boat-hook "--

"Put it down," said the skipper sternly, and Bill sullenly obeyed.

"We'll have to snooze on deck," said Codd.

"And mind we don't snore," said the sarcastic Bill, "'cos the dog
mightn't like it."

Without noticing this remark the captain stretched himself on the
hatches, and Bill, after a few more grumbles, followed his example, and
both men were soon asleep.

Day was breaking when they awoke and stretched their stiffened limbs,
for the air was fresh, with a suspicion of moisture in it. Two or three
small craft were, like them selves, riding at anchor, their decks wet
and deserted; others were getting under way to take advantage of the
tide, which had just turned.

"Up with the anchor," said the skipper, seizing a handspike and
thrusting it into the windlass.

As the rusty chain came in, an ominous growling came from below, and
Bill snatched his handspike out and raised it aloft. The skipper gazed
meditatively at the shore, and the dog, as it came bounding up, gazed
meditatively at the handspike. Then it yawned, an easy, unconcerned
yawn, and commenced to pace the deck, and coming to the conclusion that
the men were only engaged in necessary work, regarded their efforts with
a lenient eye, and barked encouragingly as they hoisted the sail.

It was a beautiful morning. The miniature river waves broke against the
blunt bows of the barge, and passed by her sides rippling musically.
Over the flat Essex marshes a white mist was slowly dispersing before
the rays of the sun, and the trees on the Kentish hills were black and
drenched with moisture.

A little later smoke issued from the tiny cowl over the fo'c'sle and
rolled in a little pungent cloud to the Kentish shore. Then a delicious
odour of frying steak rose from below, and fell like healing balm upon
the susceptible nostrils of the skipper as he stood at the helm.

"Is Mrs. Bunker getting up?" inquired the mate, as he emerged from the
fo'c'sle and walked aft.

"I believe so," said the skipper. "There's movements below."

"'Cos the steak's ready and waiting," said the mate. "I've put it on a
dish in front of the fire."

"Ay, ay!" said the skipper.

The mate lit his pipe and sat down on the hatchway, slowly smoking. He
removed it a couple of minutes later, to stare in bewilderment at
the unwo